


Ashes to Embers

by Wynele



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, Auntie Ella, Eventual Smut, Everyone is in the loop, F/M, Fluff, Hurt Lucifer, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Injury, Injury Recovery, Kungfu Fetus, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex, Slow Updates, Spoilers for all seasons., Watch Lucifer on Netflix, Whump, babies ever after, humping plot bunnies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-06-27 16:41:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15689325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wynele/pseuds/Wynele
Summary: When Lucifer is poisoned by an assailant from his past, it is up to Chloe and Ella to find a cure before it is too late.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Another super long WIP from me. Hopefully, I'll have this complete before the next seasons starts. For now, enjoy the first chapter.

Lucifer sat on the edge of the bed. Tiny droplets of water drying on his chest. He bowed his head, fascinated by a long deep gash across his knee. Experimentally, he extended his leg and was rewarded with a sharp, searing pain. Blood poured in rivets down his shin, looking very red against his pale flesh.

Frowning he thought back, struggling to remember how he had been injured. He was wet and mostly naked, so perhaps he had fallen into the river again. His shoulders sank as he began chewing on his bottom lip. It wouldn’t be long until Amenadiel arrived to deliver Father’s newest lecture.

He realized then that he was alone. It was something that had never happened to him before. There had always been someone around, even if it was just Father. A weird feeling wove through him, making his heart race and hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

Lucifer took a deep breath, and then exhaled sharply, trying to calm himself. He swallowed hard, face scrunching as he gagged. There was a horrible taste on the back of his tongue.

He lifted his hands, steepled in prayer, but then froze he when saw something out of the corner of his eye. Without moving a muscle, his gaze slid sideways to look out a glass patio door leading to a beautiful crystalline pool.

A woman paced the length of the pool, a cell phone pressed almost flush against her cheek. She was soaked through, as he was, the thin fabric of her dress clinging to her slender curves to reveal the slight swell of her belly.

She exhaled sharply and scrubbed at her face with the heel of her free hand. He knew her, though how was a mystery. Perhaps she was a new sibling? one that mother and father had yet to reveal. They did that sometimes, a fact that he believed one day needed to be questioned.

Tilting his head, he relaxed his eyes until his vision doubled. Slowly, pricks of light erupted in his field of vision, pulling the images back into focus. He blinked, eyes lashes fluttering, and straightened on the bed.

His gift told him that her name was Detective, but somehow he knew that it wasn’t quite right. Detective was something people called her sometimes, much like when his parents called him Lucifer. Her real name was something else.

“Chloe,” he whispered to himself, smiling at the way the name rolled off his tongue. Detective’s name was Chloe.

A strange fluttering overcame him when he said her name and his eyes moved of their own accord to trace the slim column of her throat.

“I don’t know,” Chloe said with a sigh, pressing her lips together in a firm line. Shaking her head, she laid a protective hand on the slight swell of her belly, glancing around the area of the pool. “I wasn’t even gone half an hour…” she sucked in a breath, biting her bottom lip. “I know, I know… uh-huh…okay. There was water everywhere. I don’t know if he slipped and fell…” she choked a laugh. “It’s not like I can take him to a hospital.”

Lucifer leaned forward, straining to hear Chloe moved away, but then choked back a cry. He rolled his shoulders, wanting, but not daring to unfurl his wings. Something was very wrong.

Chloe was at his side at an instant and she wrapped her free arm around his shoulders, pulling him into her ribcage. “It’s okay,” she soothed, fingers wiggling into the hairs at his nape. “I got you.”

He stiffened in her arms, flinching when she laid her cheek to the top of his head. Her heart was racing, he could feel it pounding against his cheek. He relaxed by inches, oddly comforted in her embrace. Her fingers combed through his hair as she continued to talk on the phone. Every so often, she would sigh and draw him closer.

Her belly rubbed against his chest, pleasantly warm despite her wet clothes. Tentatively, Lucifer reached out to lightly graze her stomach with his fingertips. He jerked away with a gasp as a swell of energy reach for him, winding its way around his fingers.

Seeming not to notice, Chloe smiled softly and taking his hand, pressed it against her abdomen. The energy wound itself beneath his palm but didn’t reach for him again, seemingly lulled by his presence.

Chloe straightened, but didn’t pull away and lolled her head back, lolling at the sky. “I don’t know, Ella,” she said tearfully, pressing her phone almost flush with her cheek. “I went down to get… Yes, okay. I’ll check.”

She breathed deeply, gasping as if she had ran for miles. Her hand slid up his shoulder to cup his cheek. She gently tipped his head up, forcing him to look her in the eyes, her thumb grazing his eyebrow.

Frowning, she pressed her lips together and shook her head in disbelief. “His pupils are tiny, like pinpricks,” she said, and then shook her head, forgetting Ella couldn’t see her. “No, he quit doing that. Okay…Warm and dry. Got it.”

Chloe’s hand lingered on his shoulder as she stepped away to pull the linens from the bed. She wrapped it around his shoulders, tucking it beneath his chin, and tugged from the back to pull it up over his head. Then, she sat beside him on the bed and prodded gently around the gash on his knee.

Lucifer shivered and burrowed deeper into the blanket when she rose from the bed, depriving him of her body heat. He hadn’t realized just how cold he was.

Chloe grabbed her phone and pressed it back to her ear.

“His knee is squishy, but it’s already stopped bleeding. He heals so fast that…” her mouth hung open as she slowly shook her head. “No, Ella, you don’t have to drop everything—”

Chloe made a little sound and pressed her lips together, shaking her head. “You’re already halfway to the airport, aren’t you?”

Chloe bit her lip and smiled, wide, but brittle and wiped the tears from her lashes. “Thank you,” she breathed, relief seeming to fill her being. “I’ll wire you the money…”

A warm, softness fell over Chloe’s features as her hand swiped at her belly. “Yeah, she’s fine. She got all weird and fluttery when I was out…Maybe she just missed her Aunt Ella?” exhaling sharply, she swallowed hard and bobbed her head. “Okay, see you soon.”

Wiping her eyes with the heels of her hand, Chloe mumbled something about hormones and tossed her phone on the bed. She sat beside him and caged his face with her hands, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“You scared me,” she gasped, voice quavering, and pressed a trail of kisses down the length of his face to the end of his nose.

“Ella’s on her way,” she promised and kissed him lightly on the lips.

He liked it, he realized, trying very hard not respond to her advances.

“Forgive me,” he said softly, his voice almost musical, and tilted his head in a gesture that was almost birdlike.

“You seem to have me at a disadvantage,” he purred, eyes dropping to her lips. “Unless that was your intention all along.”

Confused, Chloe gaped at him, opening and closing her mouth, and twisted one hand against her chest. It was such a strange gesture, awkward, yet strangely endearing. His face smoothed to impassive lines as a disjointed memory struck him. He had seen this gesture before, more than once, and it had always ended in pain.

Lucifer leapt from the bed, his injured knee nearly buckling beneath him. His knee screamed in protest as he took a step back, gritting his teeth.

“I…” Chloe shook her head, worry creasing her brow as horror slowly dawned on her features. “Your accent is different.”

She took a step toward him, only for him to scuttle back out onto the patio near the pool. “This isn’t funny, Lucifer.”

Expression fixed in cold, forbidding lines, Lucifer blinked slowly at her, pinpricks of pure, white light spilling from his eyes. “I am Samael,” he hissed, his expression darkening into pure rage. “And you, my dear are a liar.”

 

\-------

 

Across the continent, a well-dressed man stepped into an elevator. He sighed at the ceiling, rolling his neck against his shoulders. It had a long, fruitless day, in an eternity of long, fruitless days. Still, for the first time in eons, he had hope that it was all about to change. After a few moments, the elevator doors open with ping, delivering him to the penthouse floor. He slipped out of his waistcoat and tossed it to one of the leather sofas before pouring himself a tumbler of scotch.

Making his way to the sofa, he sat down and crossed his legs at the knee. There he sipped his scotch and stared out the balcony doors. His dark blue eyes fluttered shut as he pinched the bridge of his nose and yawned into his cupped palm. He was asleep within minutes, the tumbler dangling in his loose fingers, but then snapped awake when the morning star reached its zenith. Raking a hand through his dark curls, he quickly looked around and found himself to be utterly alone. After centuries of solitude, another night was hardly unexpected. Stifling a yawn, he downed the last of his scotch, watery now that the ice had melted, and rose from the sofa.

He brushed passed his baby Steinway, trailing his fingers along the keys, as he made his way back to his private bar. His reflection frowned back at him from the mirrors behind the bar. A small, sad smile curled at his lips. There was a time, very long ago, when he hadn’t needed a mirror to see his own face.

He reached for the bottle of scotch, but then changed his mind and selected a bourbon instead. The elevator pinged just as the tumbler reached his lips.

“Let me guess,” he murmured, taking a sip of his drink. “You failed.”

A large man stormed out of the elevator wearing plain, simple clothes. “Only because you hamstrung me,” the man hissed, balling his fist at his sides. “You were the one who said not to involve the woman.”

The man sighed, rolling his eyes, and poured a drink for his visitor.

“I meant,” he drew out, passing the drink the other man. “I didn’t want you to fuck or kill her, or any combination of the two, a demon such as yourself, might get his jollies from.”

“I don’t fuck humans, Michael,” the demon growled, disgust dripping from his tone. “That’s something you angels do.”

Michael chuckled and tilted his head, grinning a wide, painful grin.

“Don’t knock until you’ve tried it, Calithiaxi,” he chirped before downing the last of his drink. “Were you at least able to administer the serum?”

Calithaxi nodded once, clearly unhappy. “The poison, you mean? Yes, into his left wing as you instructed.

Suddenly animated, Michael bobbed his head excitedly, his lips twitching. “And he fell into an immediate slumber, correct?”

“Yes,” the demon replied, knowing full well the angel already knew the answer. “He fell into the pool during the struggle, but before I could retrieve him, the woman returned.”

Calming inch by inch, Michael made a little humming sound and smiled faintly. “Ah, well, I had hoped to arrange it so that it appeared as though my brother simply buggered off again,” he mused, his eyes sparkling with undisguised joy. “But this will work out just as well.”

The demon narrowed his eyes as he took a menacing step toward the angel. “He’s no good to me dead.”

Chuckling softly, Michael turned back to the bar and selected a bottle. He poured himself another tumbler full and took a sip, savoring the burn of the alcohol on his tongue. Then, in a blinding flash of movement, he spun on his feet and drove a pure silver dagger deep into the demon’s chest.

The demon’s face was frozen in wide-eyed shock as he stared dumbly at the blade protruding from his chest. “You…”

“Me,” Michael chirped back, sounding inordinately chipper, and breathed a pleased sigh when the demon finally crumpled to the floor. “Ah, Calithax, you were a fool to think I would ever give my brother to you.”

Drink in hand, he stepped over the demon’s body and returned to his place on the sofa. Sighing softly to himself, he took a sip of his drink and stared out at the morning star.

‘Seven days, brother,” he whispered, tears glittering in his dark blue eyes, “and no one will ever part us again. This I swear.”


	2. Chapter Two

Lucifer awoke in darkness. A shrill noise shrieked surrounded him, growing with each passing second. Something lashed at him, slapping and tearing at his silver spun garments like invisible, insistent hands. He was falling, tumbling head over foot toward a realm of fire, ash, and stone.

Above him was a great city, its pristine silver towers darkening to gunmetal gray as he plummeted toward the realm below. His wings unfurled on instinct, trying to slow his fall, and then snapped back, bruising as they collided into each other.

Spots formed in front of his eyes and he cried out, his wings twisting in the wind like an old sheet. They were injured, the left far worse than the right. Its joints were swollen with most of its feathers broken and bloody. A festering wound near his spine throbbed and seeped a foul-smelling fluid down the small of his back.

Lucifer couldn’t quite remember what had happened to him, only that he had been attacked from behind. The who, whys, and hows would have to wait until later. Right now, he needed to stop his relentless plummet through the void.

Gritting his teeth, Lucifer beat his wings furiously, sending great arches of light through the darkness. Pain lanced through his back and shoulders, so intense that he thought for a moment his wings had ripped themselves from the sockets. Feathers spiraled around him, caught in the maelstrom created by his buffeting wings. He shrieked, unable to stop himself, and took a desperate gulp of air.

After a moment, he finally caught himself, stopping his head over heels tumble, but unable to fully stop his descent to the realm below. Safer now, he tried once more to remember what had happened. Disjointed images of past and present, plausible and impossible, flashed through his mind.

He remembered a happy moment in the seasonal aisle of the local grocery store. The detective had mentioned with a dreamy sigh how she had always wanted to spend Halloween in Salem. Not for the witches, of course. There weren’t any true magic users in Salem. Chloe had rolled her eyes when he explained that to her and accused him of having an acute case of Luciferness. She walked off, pretending to be annoyed, and he tossed a bag caramels into her basket. They carved pumpkins with her offspring that night and once again contemplated moving in together.

His heart sank, suddenly, falling with him into the void. That was all wishful thinking, of course. Chloe had made her choice and it hadn't been him. Amenadiel thought he should intervene. But what could he do? Despite how he felt, Lucifer knew, deep down, it had been for the best. He had tarried far too long on the mortal plane. It was high time he returned to his duties in The Silver City. Best to leave the mortal with her own kind.

His mind jerked sluggishly back the present and his current predicament. The world of ash, fire, and stone was racing toward him, filling his sight. Clenching his jaw, he flapped his wings, trying to catch enough air to slip into a glide.

Skimming the surface of the rocky plan, he gave his wings a single hard flap to regain altitude. Lucifer shrieked suddenly as his injured wing dislocated and slapped hard against his side. He began to plummet once more, his remaining wing burning with strain as it trashed in wild desperation.

A formless panic filled him that strangely had nothing to do with his impending impact with the rocky ground. He felt as though he had forgotten something. Something vitally important that meant the world to him. The details slipped away, crumbling, as he grasped at them

He squeezed his eyes shut, his entire body stiffening as he braced for impact with the rocky ground. A single word, a name, tumbled from his lips as agony washed over him. “Chloe.”

 

*********

 

Chloe sat in a chair beside the bed, her hands balling into her long skirt as Lucifer called out to her. Sucking in a breath, she squeezed her eyes shut and tried desperately to drown out the sound of his sobs.

“Ella,” she gasped, very close to tears, and glanced desperately back to bed where Lucifer thrashed and trembled. “How is he?”

The forensics scientist pursed her lips and shook her, a worried look shadowing her features.

“He has an extra rib,” she murmured, half beneath her breath, as she ticked her fingers down his side, and then frowned. “Maybe two.”

Very gently she tried to wiggle a hand beneath Lucifer, but the devil stiffened and pressed his back further into the mattress.

“Sorry, buddy, but I need… C’mon, let me,” she grunted, straining as she tried to move Lucifer enough so that she could turn him over. Having no luck, she sat back on the edge of the bed and turned to face Chloe. “I’ve totally been wanting to really dig into him and see how he ticks, but now it just seems wrong. You know?”

Chloe jerkily bobbed her head and got up from her chair to sit beside Ella on the bed. She laid a protective hand against her belly and leaned forward to brush the hair from Lucifer’s eyes. He needed a haircut, but she secretly hoped he’d put it off a few days. The extra length was all curl.

Smiling softly, she cupped his cheek and ran her thumb over his cheekbone. The smile faded as reality once again set in. She sucked in a shuddering breath, shaking her head.

“I found him face down in the pool,” Chloe breathed, her words coming out in a rush, and pressed her lips together, shaking her head. “I’m not sure how I managed to get him out, but then…” She looked up at Ella, her eyes were haunted. “I called you.”

“Hey, hey, you did the right thing,” Ella chided and wrapped her arms around Chloe, drawing into a bear hug. “We’ll get to the bottom of this, and then hit the sights. All of October is Halloween in Salem.”

Chloe pulled away and scrubbed at her face with the heels of her hands. She laughed and shook her head, biting her lip as she looked at Lucifer. He whimpered in his sleep and rolled over onto his side so that he could nuzzle at her hip.

“Whoa,” Ella breathed, eyes widening as her gaze fell to Lucifer’s crotch, and then jerked her gaze up. She breathed a “wow” for good measure, flushing to her hairline. “Talk about a third arm. I can totally see why you limp sometimes.”

“Ella!” Chloe sputtered, goggling at Ella, and pulled the blanket up over Lucifer’s hips. She swallowed twice, flustered, but then steeled herself. None of this was helping them figure out what had happened to Lucifer.

Slipping into full detective mode, she nodded with her to chin to Lucifer. He was laying on his side with his back exposed to the wall. “He said his wing hurt right before he passed out.”

Ella nodded and sprang into action, but instead of walking around the bed, she simply crawled over Lucifer and stretched out behind him. “And you say he didn’t recognize you at all?” she asked, suddenly all business, and pressed her fingers down Lucifer's back.

Chloe shook her head and leaned forward to brush a kiss against Lucifer’s cheek. He was quiet finally, so still and silent. She hoped it was a good sign, despite knowing it wasn't.

“No, he called himself Samael,” she recalled, worried tears stinging in her eyes as a thread of guilt wove through her. “Then he…” _called me a liar “_ …passed out.”

Ella seemed to be only half listening. She rolled partly off the bed so that her feet dangled off the edge so that she could peer intently at Lucifer’s back.

“Whoa, no way, that’s weirdly awesome,” she babbled breathlessly and stuck out her tongue as she twisted her pinky finger against a raised spot beneath his shoulder blade. “His anatomy is well, once you get over the whole he’s an angel of the Lord—"

“Devil,” Lucifer muttered without opening his eyes and flopped back over onto his back. He grappled blindly at the blanket hanging precariously low on his hips and pulled it up to his armpits. Swallowing hard, he grimaced, features pinching as if in pain, and finally opened his eyes.

Ella grabbed his chin and forced him to look at her. “Okay, dude,” she said firmly and peeled back his eyelid with her thumb. “Out with it.”

Lucifer jerked his face free and burrowed deeper into the blankets. He was cold, colder than he had ever been, and his mind felt fuzzy. Not fuzzy, broken, his memories shattered and scattered, held together only barely by a sticky, simmering rage. He knew this woman, knew her crimes. She was a careless enabler of sin, hell bound hypocrisy at its finest.

“Azrael should have taken you when she had the chance,” he hissed, laughing softly when Ella scurried back and fell off the bed. “Perhaps then you would have avoided the punishment you so richly deserve.”

Then, his features slackened as confusion washed over them. Blinking rapidly, he shook his head. “I…Ms. Lopez?”

Ella fluttered her lashes, blinking back tears, and sucked in a shaking breath. Eyes wide as saucers, she scrambled to her feet and bolted to the foot of the bed. She sucked in a breath, calming herself, and then her demeanor turned on its head.

She snarled and yanked off her shoe. “Pendejo,” she snarled, gripped her sneaker, ready to pounce.  

Chuckling, Lucifer gave Ella a bemused look but then frowned when he realized something was amiss. He slowly lifted the blanket, eyes widening slightly, before settling into his familiar bemusement. “Believe me when I say that I never thought I’d ever ask this, but,” he began, obvious confusion in his usual purr. “Why am I naked?”

Choking out a breathy laugh, Chloe leaned forward so that so she partly laying on him. “I underdressed you,” she murmured and reached out to cup his cheek. “Do you remember what happened?”

He said nothing, hurt flashing in his face before he looked away. Once again, bits of memory fluttered to the surface of his thoughts, painful and sharp. He slapped them away, sending them crashing into the rocky plane deep within his mind. One eluded his efforts, too jagged and painful to ever be buried.

The detective, Chloe, had chosen Cain. She was going to marry him and possibly had during the stretch of time he seemed to be missing. Something was nudging at his hip, tapping with frantic, invisible fingers.

“Hey, hey, you,” Chloe hummed, the worry in her eyes softening into real joy as she sat up and laid her palm against the soft swell of her belly. “Be nice to Mommy.”

“Ah,” Lucifer began, his voice little more than a dry croak. He looked away, his jaw working as he swallowed, and then schooled his face into impassive lines. It was only natural, he supposed. An engagement meant marriage, which opened the possibility of the beautiful Pecker babies Ms. Lopez so desperately wanted.

“It seems congratulations are in order,” he said without any real inflection and inhaled through his nostrils. “I suppose.”

Chloe managed a brittle smile and looked over her shoulder at Ella. The other woman lifted her brows and laid the shoe just within reach on the foot of the bed.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Chloe asked gently as she turned back to Lucifer. She took his hand in her and lightly stroked his knuckles.

When he said nothing, she uttered a worried sigh and leaned forward to fuss with the blanket. Her belly nudged him while she busied herself, the child within her squirming as if trying wiggle its way free.  Briefly, he imagined it bursting from her chest like a monster in a movie he saw once.

“I saw you choose him,” Lucifer said so softly that she almost didn’t hear him. He rolled his head sideways to stare unseeing at the wall. “And then I fell.”

“Whoa, dude,” Ella blurted out, finding her voice at last. “I mean that was like forever ago. Like years and years.”

“Left then, has he? I can't say I'm surprised,” Lucifer muttered, his expression hardening. “I suppose that’s why—” he cried out suddenly, his face contorting in pain as his back arched into near perfect bow.

His wings unfurled with a whoosh of air, striking Chloe square in the chest and knocking her to the floor. Lucifer moaned and thrashed on the bed, screaming as he tore at his own wings.

Stunned, but recovering quickly, Chloe wincing at the throb in her chest. Wrapping an arm around her belly, she scooted backward on her butt until she was a safe distance away.

“Are you okay?” Ella whispered from where she crouched at the foot of the bed. Shifting to all fours, she crawled toward Chloe and sat down beside her. Carefully, she tugged at Chloe’s collar and winced at the myriad of bruises already forming. “You’re—”

Lucifer screamed, the tendons in his throat straining as his entire body went rigid. His lips peeled back, baring his teeth in a grimace as he began to twitch and shake.

“He’s seizing,” Ella realized with a start and hopped to her feet without hesitation. Working quickly, she pulled the nightstand away from the bed and then fell back on her bottom as a flailing wing sliced over her head.

She fumbled for her phone, noting the time, before crawling back to Chloe. “We just have to wait it—”

Ella squeaked in surprised when Chloe launched herself at her, sweeping her into a bone-crushing hug.

“Hey, hey, we’ll figure this out,” she promised, glancing quickly at her phone when Lucifer finally began to quiet. “I need to check on him.”

Ella crawled forward a few inches, and then, deciding it was safe, slowly rose to her feet. She padded to the bed, quickly pulling the blanket up over Lucifer’s hips before sitting down to examine him.

He was pale and almost too still but seemed otherwise comfortable. She touched his cheek with the back of her hand, noting he seemed slightly cooler than usual and glanced over her shoulder at Chloe. “Do you have a thermometer?”

“Yeah, I think there’s one in the medicine cabinet,” Chloe said distractedly as she climbed to her feet. “But we don’t know what’s really normal for him.”

“Dude, utmost respect for the big guy upstairs,” Ella said with a touch incredulity, and all her usual enthusiasm. “But, hello, Lucifer is a freakin’ angel. No way I wasn’t going to poke at him a little.”

Chloe frowned, pausing at the door to the bathroom. “So, you know his normal temperature.”

“Average temperature, blood pressure, pulse,” Ella said, counting off on her fingers, and then shrugged as Chloe emerged from the bathroom. “Well, the average for him, anyway.”

Chloe handed Ella the thermometer and then sat gingerly on the bed. She stroked Lucifer’s cheek with the back of her hand, alarmed at clamminess of his skin.

“He’s so cold,” she whispered and gently tilted his head, so Ella could insert the thermometer into his ear.

Lucifer’s lids fluttered open just enough to reveal the shiny wetness of his eyes. They were bleary and exhausted, but still somehow managed to lock with hers.

“Chloe,” he murmured a soft breathy sound and swallowed past a lump in his throat. “Detective, I…water.”

“Water?” Chloe murmured and combed her fingers through his messy hair, nodding. “Okay, hold on, I’ll get you some.”

She gave him a quick kiss on the forehead and climbed off the bed. The thermometer beeped, startling her just enough that she jumped. Mentally cursing, she shook her head and caught sight of the pool at of the corner of her eye.

That was where she found him, yesterday afternoon, floating face down and unmoving.

“Water,” Chloe repeated and pushed the double glass door open with the heels of her hands. Detective instincts in high gear, she stepped onto the patio and then strode the shallow end of the pool.

Kicking off her sandals, she gingerly stuck her toe in the water, testing the temperature. It was a heated pool, an almost necessity for fall in Massachusetts. She laughed to herself, shaking her head, and stepped into the pool. Before Lucifer, the very notion of a heated pool would’ve seemed frivolous. It definitely wouldn’t have listed on her top ten list of must haves. He had changed her in so many subtle ways that she barely realized, but then, she had changed him as well.

Standing on the top step the tiled steps that laid deeper into the pool, she scanned the surface of the water. It was still, save from the ripples caused by her intrusion, and crystal clear. Carefully, she moved deeper into the pool, toes skimming the bottom, her sundress billowing and floating on the surface of the water.

She walked slowly, toeing the tiled bottom with her foot until the water was just under her chin. Standing on tiptoe, she made a circle motion with her bent leg, toes scraping the bottom. She moved along the bottom of the pool, scraping and searching for anything that would tell her what had happened to Lucifer.

There was nothing, just cool tile and warm water. Sucking in a breath, she sucked in a breath and dunked herself underwater like a suspected witch of old. After a moment, she surfaced and tipped her head back to look at the sky.

“What's happening?” she whispered, half to herself, but also to any of the beings, angels or God himself, she now knew resided within the heavens. “and why?”

Sighing, she narrowed her eyes and gave heaven, and its primary resident, a hard glare before trudging back the shallow end of the pool. As she neared the steps, she foot met something hard and several degrees cooler than the surrounding water.

She gripped the object with her toes and then bent her leg at the knee. It had the smooth hardness of glass but seemed to be a carving of some sort. She reached down to take the object still clasped between her toes and held it up above the water.

What she had assumed was just an old tile that had come loose from the bottom of the pool was a feather made of crystal.

 _Strange place for a letter opener,_ she thought, noting the feather’s extremely long, blade-like quill. Testing a hunch, she pressed the pad of her thumb against sharp tip of the quill and watched it turn crimson. Carefully, she curled her fingers over the barbs of the crystal feather, the long sharp quill protruding out the bottom of her clasped hand.

She held the feather up like a dagger and then brought it down in a sweeping arch as she’d seen Maze do countless times. This wasn’t a letter opener or some other misplaced knickknack as she had first thought. It was a weapon, and it had been used on Lucifer. That much she was certain.


End file.
